Voltan shrugged. “Search the light fixture.”
“No!” shouted Chaz, struggling with the cuffs, suddenly looking more scared than angry. Like John Hamm caught with his pants down. Or caught red-handed, which, thanks to the cuffs, that’s exactly what they were.
The light fixture was a round number, all sleek and chrome, five bulbs behind a glass pane, a hole in the center. But it was that hole that had caught my attention. Because why would there need to be a hole in the glass?
Clark seemed to catch on to the same and deftly removed the outer casing. He then grinned as he stared down at the chained man below. “Oh, Chaz,” he said, “a camera above the bed? Are you also saving memories?” He removed the small camera, then the even smaller flash-drive attached.
“You don’t know who you’re messing
